


Biological

by Cesare



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robot, M/M, Pre-Slash, Robot!Charles, Robotics, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-02 11:11:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/368335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my robot AU. There are many AUs like it, but this one is mine.</p><p>(Mine, typically, is all scene-setting and pre-slash and no actual plot. Sorry...? Not gonna lie, <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/365068/chapters/592898">Start A War by Stewardess</a> is a better bet.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Biological

If anyone asked, Erik was simply taking the Bionika tour to keep tabs on the competition. Muñoz & Lehnsherr GmbH was on the cutting edge of the semiconductor business, but there were new patents coming out of the cybernetic industry all the time across a wide range of technologies. It was nothing to do with the latest line of personal models, intended, according to the commercials, for "assistance and companionship." It was simply that one never knew where the next game-changing innovation might come from, or whether a technical advance could ripple across a wider area of business. That was why Erik took the tour. If anyone asked.

No one seemed inclined to inquire. Most people on the tour appeared to be marginally interested gawkers who just wanted a glimpse of the expensive lifelike bionics. A man and a woman, both in suits, Erik pegged as buyers for hospitality industries. One or two others in expensive casualwear might genuinely be potential buyers.

"And this is our quality assurance department," said the tour guide. The speech was standard boilerplate, _pursuit of perfection, infinitely iterating process._ Erik had given similar basic spiels to investors in the past.

"This model's a good example of the importance of iterative development and testing," the guide said, pausing next to a bionic lying back on an inclined platform, eyes open, eerie and motionless. "On a commission from the Xavier Institute, Bionika conducted extensive market research and designed this durable, personable bionic to teach mutant students whose abilities might endanger a human instructor."

Erik crossed his arms; he couldn't hear that name without his hackles going up. Brian Xavier was a human with much more money than sense. When his stillborn son tested positive for X-gene mutation, he began to sink his vast fortune into promoting mutant welfare-- from a human point of view.

His Institute devoted vast resources to integrating mutants into human society, and if that meant some mutants with 'destructive' powers were taught to tamp down their abilities, and some mutants with unusual appearances were encouraged to alter themselves to fit in, well, those were just the sort of compromises that mutants-- never humans-- were expected to make for the sake of peaceful coexistence.

Erik had been offered a scholarship to the Institute shortly after his own mutation manifested, and refused it. For all the hardship in his life after that, he told himself he didn't regret that decision.

"Because this model was intended for such a specific audience, another company might have skimped on the research phase," the guide smarmed. "But Bionika put this project through our complete process..."

Of course they did, the better to loot the deep pockets of the Xavier Institute.

"We surveyed the potential users, studied successful instructors at the Institute, and came up with a final design that incorporated ten rounds of user feedback and tested very well with students and prospective students, ages three to eighteen. The final product is intended to appear accessible and nonthreatening, minimizing overt markers of authority that might inspire older students to rebel against its instruction." The guide gestured to the bionic. "Xavier Institute was willing to begin the pilot program right away, but we always do user trials first, and a good thing, too. We ran into an issue. Anyone care to take a guess? Maybe a demonstration. Charles, wake."

Erik swept a look over the other tourists; no one else seemed disturbed. They'd apparently never read up on Brian Xavier's biography, as Erik had, and they weren't aware that Charles was the name on the grave of Brian Xavier's stillborn son.

The bionic stirred and stood up from the inclined platform. Like every other bionic on today's tour, the illusion of life was remarkable. Knowing the bionic was named for Xavier's son, Erik had to wonder how much of the vaunted design was truly the result of market research and how much catered to the delusions and vanity of an old dreamer.

Because to Erik's eye, the bionic bore a vague resemblance to Brian Xavier himself: something about the strong nose and chin, the overall shape of the face. Like Brian Xavier, the bionic was fair-skinned, but it differed in its wide-set blue eyes, slightly arched brows, and thick brown hair. Where the other bionics on the tour had been mostly average height or slightly taller with idealized healthy builds, this one was a little smaller overall. Presumably that was part of what made it 'non-threatening' and approachable for younger children. Its features were pleasant but not especially distinctive.

"Hello, and welcome, on behalf of the Xavier Institute," the bionic spoke in a light baritone with a buttery RP accent. Erik could practically smell the Earl Grey tea. "I'd be pleased to answer any questions you may have about the school, the grounds, the curriculum, student activities, and, of course, about X-gene mutation."

The guide said, "Charles, tell us more about the grounds."

"Certainly." The bionic inclined slightly toward the guide, while its body language remained oriented on the entire tour group; its gaze swept over them as it spoke, the expression open and friendly. "The Xavier Institute is located in Westchester, New York. The campus stretches from Greymalkin Lane to the shores of Breakstone Lake, covering an area of nearly a thousand acres. The grounds include the school itself, a boathouse, a small airstrip, a communications tower, and outdoor sports facilities: six tennis courts, four basketball courts and a football pitch, as well as a stablehouse and extensive gardens--"

The bionic made eye contact with Erik, and he found himself straightening, leaning forward slightly, his hands closing into fists at his sides. Charles broke the gaze and continued to survey the crowd while speaking. Erik looked around; he wasn't the only one affected, several people surprised, others frowning.

"Thank you, that's all," the guide interrupted, and the bionic subsided into an attentive, cheerful expression. Erik wasn't sure how he'd missed that mouth before; the lips were deep pink and beautifully shaped, framing a brilliant smile.

"The students loved this version of Charles," said the tour guide. "So did the parents. Some of them, a little too much. The more interactions we observed, the more we saw issues with parents becoming drawn to the bionic on a more personal basis, and we began to see the same effect in some of the older students too. We even had one student's parents claim that Charles was hurting their marriage. It turns out that 'approachable' is a quality that can cut both ways.

"So it was back to the drawing board, to work with one of the other ideas we'd set aside earlier in the design phase. The Charles mark 2 now in use at the Xavier Institute looks like this."

The guide tapped a screen, and it displayed a handsome older man, late fifties perhaps, bald, the strong bones of the face and a hint of humor around the eyes suggesting both sternness and compassion. Aside from the complexion, still indoor British pale, this face didn't much resemble Brian Xavier.

"Of course, people find Charles mark 2 attractive too," said the guide. "But they seem to find him imposing enough that they wouldn't dream of propositioning him, and we haven't had the persistent attachment issues that we saw with the mark 1. The Institute is very happy with Charles mark 2, and they, and we here at Bionika, were glad for the opportunity to learn from the user responses to Charles mark 1." 

The guide pitched his words a little more toward the two suits now, the people Erik assumed were hospitality buyers. "Charles mark 1 is currently undergoing a refit as a personal model."

"What about the pedagogical functionality?" Erik asked despite himself.

"Most of it's specialized and it'll probably be stripped out, but there may be some overlap with the new use case." The guide grinned a little. "We find some clients enjoy personal models who can be... instructive."

A little chuckle ran through the tourists still paying attention. The woman in the suit tapped at her phone, while her male colleague sottoed something to the guide. Erik suspected this stop wasn't a standard part of the circuit through the facility, but a detour for their benefit.

"Charles, sleep," said the guide.

The bionic inclined his head. "Good afternoon," he said to the group, meeting Erik's eyes again. Or, more likely, he was making eye contact with everyone who was watching him, and it only seemed as if he were looking solely at Erik. 

Charles stepped into place and leaned back against the platform, and subsided once more into motionless staring as the tour group filed out of the room.

Erik had to wonder why Bionika would program their creations to keep their eyes open during a resting state. Possibly to remind users that the bionics weren't people, no matter how lifelike they appeared. He hadn't paid any attention before to whether the bionics were left with open eyes, but after the detour, he noticed that they all were.

The tour guide was careful never to mention prices til the very end of the tour, though it was the subtext of every moment, every carefully scripted word: _quality, premium, luxury, excellence, enhanced, unique._ And still, even after all that marketingspeak and conditioning, when the guide finally brought the group to the showroom and revealed the amount for the base model, nearly everyone gasped.

Erik shook his head. Wasn't that why most of them came on this tour in the first place? This was as close as most of these humans were ever likely to get to a bionic. They could probably save for years and still wouldn't be able to afford to stay at any of the upscale hotels that offered bionic companions, let alone buy one themselves. It was only the existence of relatively few but enormously wealthy millionaire and billionaire customers that made bionics a viable business proposition at all.

 _This is the ridiculous world you humans built for yourselves,_ he thought. _Enjoy it._

Thanks to the success of Muñoz & Lehnsherr, Erik could count himself as a possible customer. He could purchase a bionic without straining his personal finances or touching his long-term savings. Not that he would.

He could tell who else was potentially a customer by their unfazed reaction to the end of the tour.

"Thank you for spending the afternoon with us here at Bionika," said the tour guide as they came to the end of a line of bionics. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to recharge." The bulk of the tourists reacted with startled murmurs as he stepped onto the empty last charging platform and lay back, going still, eyes fixed and open. 

The bionic on the next platform stood, and stepped down. It was identical to the first tour guide. "I'll be happy to answer any further questions you might have, or if you'd prefer to speak to one of our human employees, the information desk is to your right. If you're interested in making a purchase, please let me or an employee know, and a concierge will escort you to a private lounge to view the models you'd like to see at your leisure."

Most of the group dispersed to gape at the bionics in the showroom some more, but the suits went up to the tour guide, and they were quickly joined by a concierge.

Erik headed to the information desk. One of the employees gave him the obligatory smile and "Can I help you," as rote and programmed as any bionic.

"On the tour, we viewed a model that was originally designed for the Xavier Institute," Erik said.

She glanced down, giving her tablet a few taps, and smiled back up at him. "I see, yes. Scheduled for a refit as a personal model."

"Could I get the quote on that one? And don't run me through the base price plus the cost of all the configuration options and customizations, I just want the total."

"Of course, sir," she said-- and if the previous number made them gasp, the price she quoted now would probably lay those humans out on the floor in a dead faint.

"That's after the refit, of course," she added as an afterthought.

"How much for that model as is?" said Erik.

"I'm afraid we don't give discounts..."

"I really couldn't care," Erik said impatiently. "I'm interested in the pedagogical functionality. Is the teaching ability proprietary to the Xavier Institute?"

The woman looked at him strangely. "As a matter of fact, the Institute waived their intellectual property rights to this bionic's knowledge base and software. You wouldn't happen to be a competitor to the Institute? From the Massachusetts Academy, maybe?"

"No. I'm a private citizen, I'm not in education."

"The Charles model's teaching systems are very specialized to mutant learners. Are you...?"

"That's not relevant," said Erik. "It's a simple question. I want to know the cost to purchase-- it as it is." Impatiently he produced his steel wallet and handed the employee one of his business cards. "Email me a quote."

Erik was just curious, of course. He had no intention of following through. He just wanted to know. 

Or... not only curious. He was irritated by the idea that a bionic with a head (or whatever relevant body parts) full of information on educating mutants was slated to be wiped clean of all that knowledge just to become another companion on the menu at some luxury hotel. That was all. It was probably some vestigial human weakness that made him want to go back to the quality assurance department and pull Charles up off that slab, or at least let him rest with his eyes closed.

That was all it was, Erik knew. He'd get over it.


End file.
